


Adronitis

by babybutterbeans



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4481471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybutterbeans/pseuds/babybutterbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(i honestly have no idea why I decided to write this pairing...)</p>
<p>Fenris can't admit to anyone that he gets lonely. One night, when it's nearly overwhelming, he seeks out the only person who may be able to provide the much-needed company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adronitis

**Author's Note:**

> yeah like i said, i have no idea why i decided to write this pairing. it's weird. but i NEED elves to be friends.   
> especially these two. they need to get along.  
> I'm really bad at writing both of these characters so i apologize for the fact that it's probably ooc as hell.   
> this was written really really late and i didn't proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes.

                Fenris would never admit to getting lonely.

                It happened rarely. He’d return to his decrepit mansion after a long day of murdering various groups of slavers, bandits, and other terrible people preying on those who can’t defend themselves with Hawke, and he’d finally have time to himself. He’d never admit it, but he hated it. After spending the entire day with those people, only to come home and be reminded that he is _truly_ alone… sometimes, he couldn’t fight the loneliness that crept inside him like a parasite. He’d have to find a way to calm himself, or he would break.

                Tonight was one of these nights.

                He hadn’t been home two hours when he started feeling anxious. He paced, back and forth in his bedroom, fidgeting with the gauntlets he hadn’t bothered to remove yet. He knew he’d never be able to sleep in this state, and working on his reading and writing skills didn’t seem to be much of an option either. Slowly, he worked through his options in his head. He could get drunk, or go for a walk, or work on fixing some of the more uncomfortable issues with the mansion… he hated all of those ideas. He wanted to talk to someone, just for a little while. Just to remind himself that he isn’t completely alone.

                He runs through his options and is disappointed to discover that he doesn’t exactly have many. Hawke would be his first choice, but he was certain that the mage, Anders, would be at the estate; he was looking for a simple conversation, not a potentially violent argument. He knew that Varric was busy with some writing project he was working on, and he didn’t dare bother Aveline at this time of night. Isabela was an option, but he knew that she’d have a completely different idea of how the night should go. That left only one option: Merrill.

                Fenris had known Hawke, a mage, for at least six years now, and he trusted Hawke. He’d heard stories of Hawke’s father and sister, and concluded that they were good people. Although he’d never admit to feeling this way, he knew that even Anders was good, devoting every spare moment to healing those who needed it most, despite being foolish enough to allow himself to be possessed by a spirit. Merrill was the only one he couldn’t figure out. She was a _blood mage_. She gave up everything – her home, her _family_ – to pursue knowledge of a long-dead culture. He didn’t understand her. He knew he shouldn’t trust her; every blood mage he’d ever known had been ambitious, greedy, and selfish, only seeking to gain power. But Merrill… she was none of those things. He’d slowly come to understand that she’d given up everything, _knowing_ that her clan would never appreciate her efforts into restoring their history.

                With an irritated huff, he grabbed the nearest bottle of wine, nearly full, and drank the entire thing. He was going to need it.

* * *

 

                Lowtown was practically empty at this time of night.

                Hawke had already cleared out most of the gangs that’d been operating in this area at night, so his walk from Hightown was, thankfully, uneventful. Before he’d left his mansion, he grabbed a book from the table in his room. He’d been working on reading it for several days, but still found himself struggling to understand most of it. He knew that, as (formerly) First to her Keeper, Merrill would know how to read and write, so that was going to be his excuse for visiting her.

                He entered the Alienage, suddenly very self-conscious about being there. Fortunately, it was late enough that nobody seemed to be out, so he felt a little more comfortable crossing the courtyard to Merrill’s home. He noticed light shining beneath her front door, so hopefully she was still awake. With a little hesitation, he reached up and gave the door a few quick knocks. Within about 5 seconds, the door was opened up, just enough for Merrill to poke her head out, a soft smile on her face, until she noticed who was standing there.

                “Oh! Fenris,” she said, with a small jump, “is something wrong?” She poked her head out further, looking around to see if he’d come with Hawke or anyone else in their group.

                “Um,” was about all he could manage, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what to tell her. After a few uncomfortable seconds, he lifted up the book he’d brought with him. “I… am having a bit of trouble with this, and I didn’t wish to disturb Hawke at this hour.”

                “Oh! You’d like my help?” Her eyes lit up, the small smile returning to her face.

                “If that would be alright.”

                “Of course!” She said cheerfully, standing aside to let Fenris through the door. She closed the door behind him and quickly scurried over to find a seat for him. He followed her over to a table, covered in large, ancient-looking books of all sorts. His reading abilities weren’t that great, but he could tell that nearly all of them were directly related to magic. She quickly cleared the table, carefully placing the books on the floor.

                Fenris dropped the book onto the table and sat down in the nearest chair, and Merrill pulled her own chair over to sit next to him. She opened up the book and their work began.

* * *

 

                Fenris was shocked to discover that Merrill was actually a very good teacher.

                She explained everything simply, in was that were easy to understand, and he found himself finally making progress. She was very patient with him, even when he grew frustrated when certain spellings didn’t make sense, or when he reached a particularly difficult sentence he just couldn’t get through. Hawke was a good teacher, but he found Merrill to be much better at it. Finally, after nearly three hours, they decided to be done for the night.

                “You’re very good at teaching this,” he said slowly, feeling strange about paying her a compliment, a feeling that subsided when he saw her grin happily, “have you taught before? To your clan?”

                “No, much of the clan doesn’t know how to read or write, that’s why we have Keepers.” She smiled, setting a glass of water down in front of him before returning to her chair with her own glass. “Keeper Marethari taught me, of course. But the others don’t really need to read much, we prefer to listen to stories. Hahren Paivel always told the best stories, I always loved them. They were usually just history of the Dalish, and I’d heard them a thousand times of course, but I loved listening to him tell stories.” She sounded wistful, and Fenris couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She clearly missed her clan very much.

                “So you’ve never taught someone to read before?”

                “Well, I’ve helped some of the children in the Alienage. Their parents knew that I could read and write, and asked me to help their children. I was happy to! I love helping them, they’re so precious! And if they know how to read and write, even just a little, maybe they could have better opportunities, and have better lives.”

                Fenris couldn’t help the small smile that flashed briefly on his face. It wasn’t there for long, but Merrill definitely noticed, judging by the blush that crept across her face. Suddenly, she stood up and walked over to one of her kitchen cupboards and, to his surprise, pulled out an unopened bottle of wine.

                “Varric gave this to me ages ago,” she said quickly, setting the bottle down on the table, “I’ve never opened it. I’m not sure if I like wine. But you do, don’t you? Hawke says you drink it all the time. Would you like some?”

                “Of course,” he said, surprised that she even had some. She rarely drank with them on Wicked Grace nights, so perhaps it wasn’t very strange for her to still have a bottle that Varric had given her. He opened the bottle and carefully poured some into Merrill’s glass before pouring some into his own empty water glass.

                His original goal for coming to visit Merrill was complete; just something to keep himself from getting too upset over being alone in that mansion. He hadn’t expected to actually enjoy his time there, let alone find excuses to stay even longer. Somehow, he was enjoying his time with her. She was easy to get along with. He was comfortable in her home.

                He watched her raise the glass to her lips and take a sip, before grimacing.

                “Ugh, that is awful,” she said in disgust, staring at the dark red liquid in her glass.

                “It is,” Fenris agreed, taking a sip.

                “How can you drink this stuff? Oh, I suppose yours is much better than mine. Varric probably got this from The Hanged Man.”

                “ _Mine_ is what they serve to the most important magisters in Tevinter.” He said. He thought for a moment, before continuing carefully. “Perhaps you should try some. I have plenty at home.”

                She stared at him in surprise, but then her gaze dropped and fixed itself on the table in front of her.

                “I know what you think of me, Fenris,” she said softly. “You aren’t exactly subtle. You think I’m stupid, and a monster for using blood magic. I’m not sure why you’re being so friendly tonight, and I enjoyed this, but perhaps we shouldn’t do this again, not if you’re going to continue to treat me the way you do. Well, I won’t refuse to help you with your reading, of course, but that’s it! I’ll help you, and then you’ll go home, and we won’t do _this_ part again. The wine drinking part.” He could see the sadness in her face. “I’m sorry that you hate magic so much for what they did to you, but I am proud of _my_ magic, and for what I’ve done to help the Dalish. Which isn’t much, at the moment, but I’m still proud.”

                He stared at her in shock. What she said was true, he _did_ think that she was foolish for dealing with demons and using blood magic. But this environment, spending time alone with her, doing nothing but learning to read and talking, made him realize that she wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t an abomination, she wasn’t abnormal in any way. Hawke was the first to sway his opinion of mages. Fenris never believe that he would come to meet a mage he enjoyed spending time with, yet he cared for Hawke. Perhaps it wasn’t too far-fetched for him enjoy the company of a blood mage. As long as that blood mage was Merrill, of course.

                “I…I misjudged you,” he began. “My experiences with blood mages have been entirely terrible, as all the blood mages I’ve known were magisters, slaughtering innocent slaves to fuel their rituals. I always believed that that’s all that blood mages were. I’ve never seen you use the blood of an innocent person to fuel your power, nor have I seen you use that power to hurt anyone who did not deserve it. I was wrong, Merrill. About you. I do not believe that all blood mages are innocent, but I know now that you won’t take that path.”

                She looked up at him, a smile forming on her face.

                “Thank you, Fenris.” They sat together in a comfortable silence for a few moments, finishing their glasses of wine. Merrill finally piped up, “Does Anders know that you’ve changed your mind about mages? I’m sure he’d love to know.”

                “No, he does not, and I don’t intend to tell him any time soon.” Merrill actually giggled, but it turned quickly into a yawn. Fenris stood up and carefully took his book.

                “I apologize. I didn’t realize how late it is. I should be going.”

                “Oh! Don’t worry about me. But it is really late, so you should probably sleep too. We should do this again tomorrow; I think Hawke is inviting Aveline and Varric out to take care of some things at the Bone Pit, so I’ll be home all day.”

                “We can meet in Danarius’s mansion. I have several other books that I’d like your help with, and it would be easier to meet there.”

                “You can let me try that wine! I don’t think I’ll enjoy it, but I’d love to try. Should I bring some glasses? Do you have glasses in your mansion? Last time I was there, it looked like everything had been smashed.”

                Fenris smiled again, enjoying her enthusiasm.

                “If you’d like. So, tomorrow evening?”

                “Yes, I’ll be there! Unless I get lost, so I might be late.”

                She was beaming, and before he could do anything, she was hugging him. His brands lit up instinctively, ready to fight off any unwanted contact, but Fenris calmed them, and carefully wrapped his arms around her. It was strange; he truly couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged someone. But it was comfortable. When they finally broke apart, she was still smiling.

                They exchanged quick goodbyes, and Fenris was on his way back to Hightown, feeling better than he had in months.

 


End file.
